“What are you doing?” Knox questions as I switch out the trays.

Taking out some tongs, I place the new cupcakes on a cooling rack, so they don’t overcook.

“Making cupcakes for the party.”

His face scrunches and I notice the bruises from his sexcapades have started to fade. “Did you get permission to do that?”

Now I’m the one who makes a face. “Permission? To bake cupcakes?”

Hell, if anything, I might actually get a thank you out of my mother for helping.

Turning to the island, I pick up the pastry bag filled with homemade icing and start frosting a different batch that’s had time to cool.

I can feel Knox’s stare on me the entire time…watching me. After I’m done frosting, I sprinkle some coconut shreds on top.

“Do you like chocolate cupcakes?”

It’s probably a dumb question, because almost everyone I know likes chocolate. However, Knox is usually the exception to the rule, so I figured I’d ask before offering him one.

I’m not prepared for his response.

“Don’t know. Never had one before.”

I’m about to laugh because he’s obviously joking, but his earnest expression tells me he’s not.

“You’ve never had chocolate cupcakes before?” I’m about to point out that technically these are chocolate caramel coconut, but the next words out of his mouth are even more bizarre.

“I’ve never had a cupcake, period.”

“Not a big fan of sweets, I guess?”

Turning to the fridge, he takes a bottle of water out. “Don’t know. Never had any.”

I do a double take. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No,” he deadpans. “My father loathes baked goods and never wanted them in the house, so my mom never made them.”

My jaw drops a little because that’s fucking tragic. Part of the reason I love baking so much is because my dad surprised me with an easy bake oven when I was nine.

It was love at first sight.

Even when we didn’t have money for sweets, I used to pretend I was baking something delicious to make me feel better.

The fact that Knox missed out on something so normal is…sad.

“You never had any outside the house?”

He shrugs, appearing annoyed. “Never really had the inkling.”

“That’s…” I let my sentence trail off and pick up a cupcake instead. “Well, you know what they say, there’s a first time for everything.”

His eyes scan my face, like he’s trying to memorize every freckle on it as he walks toward me. My cheeks heat with every step he takes.

I expect him to snatch the cupcake from me so he can eat it, but he dips his head…then runs his tongue ring across my lower lip.

“It tastes sweeter than it looks,” he murmurs before edging away.

I’m at a loss for words. There are times he can be so cruel it takes my breath away…

But then there are moments like this—ones where I can feel an electric current running between our bodies—that confuse me.

Entice me.

Like an evil magician who casts a spell you can’t seem to break.

Clearing my throat, I hold up the cupcake. “Try—”

“What’s all this?” my mother questions as she walks into the kitchen.

“I baked cupcakes for the party.”

Surprise illuminates her face. “Oh—”

“You did what?” Trent snaps, stalking in behind her.

It’s clear he isn’t in the greatest mood.

“I baked cupcakes,” I repeat. “For the party.”

And while he might not be the biggest fan of sweets, the guests coming to his home tonight might be.

I watch as anger spreads across his face, twisting his already harsh features. “Throw them out.”

Wait? What? Is he kidding?

I look at my mom, but she won’t meet my eyes.

“No.” I shake my head, trying my hardest not to laugh, but it slips out anyway. “I’m not throwing perfectly good cupcakes out just because you don’t like them.”

That’s stupid.

Hell, this whole confrontation is stupid.

I gesture to the tray of frosted cupcakes. “If you don’t want them at the party, fine. Don’t serve them. I’ll just—”

It happens so fast, I barely have time to process what’s transpiring as Trent sweeps his hand over the island and the tray lands on the floor.

“I don’t want that shit in my house. Get rid of it. Now.”

He’s insane. The way he’s acting is downright bizarre.

“Holy shit. You’re crazy. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Next thing I know, his hand seizes my chin, gripping it so hard it hurts as my lower back digs into the counter.

“Watch your mouth, young lady.”

He’s out of his mind. There’s no other explanation for it.

“Fuck you.” I look at my mother, who’s now peering down at the floor. “Are you really gonna let him speak to me that way?”

Because my dad would never.

“I will not tolerate disrespect in my house.” Trent raises his hand. “It’s time you learned—”

“Dad,” Knox barks, wedging himself between us. “Aspen didn’t know the rule.”

The rule? Jesus. This place is becoming more like a prison every day.

The look he gives Knox sends a chill up my spine as he takes a step back and looks at my mother. “Handle your daughter, Eileen. Or so help me God, I will.”

Finally coming out of her trance, my mother lifts her head. “Aspen, go to your room.”

“Seriously?” I scoff. “I’m not twelve.”

“Eileen,” Trent warns.

Walking over to me, she takes hold of my elbow. “Room. Now.”

I plant my feet. “No.”

The sting of her palm slapping my cheek is so startling—and humiliating—I blink back tears.

I miss my dad.

It’s the only thought I have as I run up the stairs and into my bedroom.

That and…I want to leave.

I turned eighteen at the beginning of January, so there isn’t much my mother can do to stop me from moving out.

I can use the money I saved from dancing to find an apartment until college starts.